


bleeding love for you

by 99izm



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tokyo Ghoul, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Making Out, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 19:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99izm/pseuds/99izm
Summary: It's always the pretty ones you don't expect. Alternatively, Park Jihoon is a ghoul and Park Woojin is one of the top Ghoul Investigators in the city.





	bleeding love for you

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> Not very spooky, even though I wanted it to be spooky. Thank you to [leeminhyoongi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/leeminhyoongi/pseuds/leeminhyoongi) for helping me look through this ♡

It’s always the pretty ones that you don’t expect.

Woojin first met Jihoon at a cafe. It’s one of those quaint cafes down the road from the Ghoul Countermeasure Bureau, Seoul Division where he works at. Woojin never quite excelled in his academics, but it didn’t matter anyway because studies could never quell the adrenaline that was constantly running through his veins.

He first found his interest in ghouls—exterminating  _and_ studying them—when he came home one day to see his little sister, Yerim, the person whom he  _loved_ and adored so much, lying on the floor, lifeless, in a pool of her own blood. He swore that  _nothing_ good came out of ghouls— _why?_ Why did they have to exist? Why did they have to eat  _others_ to exist? Why did they have to rob away the people who mattered to him, to anyone?

It was easy getting the hang of being a Ghoul Investigator. Woojin excelled in his time at the Training Centre. There was no emotional baggage, no fear that the people around him would be killed when they were  _already_ dead anyway. He graduated quick and fast, and is proud to be one of the best, one of the strongest Ghoul Investigators in the Seoul Division.

When all his mind is focused on exterminating ghouls and studying them, falling in love was something foreign. But Jihoon’s eyes were sparkling, as if there were stars in his very eyes—and Woojin found himself being sucked in, absorbed by the galaxy that was Park Jihoon. His laughter was like bells, and Woojin couldn’t help but feel that the way he stifled his laugh, the way he brought his hand up to cover his mouth, was absolutely endearing. Woojin would watch the way Jihoon rested the tips of his fingers on the edge of the coffee cup, smooth skin that Woojin just wanted to rest his fingers on.

He didn’t know when the exact moment was when he fell for Park Jihoon—he only comprehends the  _after:_ when Jihoon is kissing him in the park behind the cafe.

It’s soft and sweet—filled with so much of Jihoon that Woojin doesn’t know what to do. He feels his hands clench awkwardly, once and twice—and then Jihoon pulls his hands up to press against the soft edges of his waist. There’s no need for Jihoon to say anything because Woojin can feel everything that Jihoon wants to say, wants to tell him from the way his lips move against his, from the way his hips press closer to Woojin’s own—as if he wants more, more _, more_ —and Woojin just wants to give him his  _everything_.

Woojin presses his own lips closer to Jihoon’s, and he can feel all of the crevices of Jihoon’s mouth, and the way his tongue presses closer as if begging for more, begging to feel Woojin’s own so that he too could feel Woojin more. Woojin feels Jihoon tugging on his lower lip, and he opens his mouth in response, and he feels Jihoon’s tongue. It’s hot,  _burning_ and Woojin thinks that it’s perfect  _this_ way in which the adrenaline burns within him.

It’s different from how it’s like when he’s chasing after a ghoul, those  _wretched monsters_ —different from the way his blood runs quickly so his instincts can react better and faster, the way his eyes squint when he presses the button to activate his Quinque. It’s different, and a  _type_  of different that Woojin wants to continue to relish in and soak in.

Jihoon’s teeth aren’t sharp, but he’s sucking on Woojin’s lower lip and it prompts a sound out of him that Woojin never thought he could make. If romance is foreign, making out is  _even_ more foreign. It feels almost immoral—the way that they are making out in public, in the darkness of the night. But it also feels  _right_ , from the way they fit each other like they had been missing puzzle pieces of each other. He tastes the light taste of blood on his lips, and he can’t help but feel that sense of stimulation—and he wonders, is this what ghouls feel when they taste human blood?

(He misses the way Jihoon’s eyes turn into a subtle shade of grey and red—because Woojin’s own eyes are closed. He has always relied on his instincts, and kissing  _isn’t_ an exception.)

He gasps at his own thought— _no,_ no, how could something like that even cross his mind? Ghouls  _are_ disgusting and revolting. He can’t put himself in their shoes, because that’s just  _wrong_ and he shouldn’t. But his gasp prompts Jihoon to deepen the kiss, and they eventually pull away seconds later because they are breathless and gasping for air. Woojin’s knees feel weak but he sees the way Jihoon’s eyes glisten with the slight hint of lust, but yet  _so_ much love, it grounds him down like an anchor.

“Um,” Jihoon’s face is red, and he only looks away now. Perhaps, Woojin’s staring a little too intently at Jihoon, but all Woojin wants is to continue to lose himself in Park Jihoon, and his love. “That was  _nice._ ”

“It was,” Woojin whispers, and his hands are still on Jihoon’s hips. Jihoon likes to wear oversized hoodies, but Woojin can still feel the softness of Jihoon even through the thick fabric. He’s still staring at Jihoon, who only seems to get redder with every passing second. But Jihoon doesn’t move, doesn’t take any action so Woojin pulls him even closer to press a kiss onto his forehead. “So, I guess, we’re boyfriends now?”

Jihoon does look up now, and he offers Woojin the brightest smile—and Woojin almost feels blinded by it, even though it’s nighttime and it’s dark. Woojin thinks that every time Jihoon smiles, his life gets brighter—and it almost makes all the pain and suffering that he had faced so far, fade into a corner of his brain. “Yes,” Jihoon is resolute. “Unless, you don’t want to—well,  _date._ ”

He’s looking at the small brooch that Woojin wears on the top left of his suit. It’s a mark of his rank—an Associate Special Class Ghoul Investigator—and Woojin is  _proud_ of it. Not everyone is an Associate Special Class, and Woojin knows that even though there are times where he should be more subtle, quiet so that he’s able to hide from the ghouls, he is also brave and he doesn’t want to resort to such tactics to take them down. He believes in glory and honour, and he wants to kill them while they recognise his strength.

His job is tough and filled with hours of slaving away—at investigations, and at extermination operations. There are so much risks involved, that Woojin’s confused at Jihoon’s willingness to date him. Woojin can’t even be sure about his own life—how can Jihoon live to be with someone like him?

“I do adore you tremendously,” Woojin admits. Now, it’s his turn to look away and the insignia suddenly feels heavier—like a rock on his chest. “I just don’t know if it’ll be fair for you to date someone like me. An investigator.”

Jihoon chuckles, as if Woojin had said something ridiculous, but Woojin knows that Jihoon doesn’t mean to think of Woojin as any lesser than he is. “Nothing’s ever  _fair_ when it comes to love.”

It’s cryptic and Jihoon’s eyes look glazed—like he’s thinking of something that’s beyond his affections for Woojin, beyond the situation that’s in front of them now. Woojin doesn’t prod because a part of him thinks that Jihoon’s talking about the cruelty of the world—that they are always living with the fear of dying.

Woojin strokes the side of Jihoon’s back—it’s intimate and revealing, but Woojin thinks, that’s just how he’s like when he’s with Jihoon, too. He hopes that Jihoon can sense all his emotions, his feelings when he touches him and Woojin brings his other hand up to Jihoon’s chin, lifts his head up so he can press another kiss onto Jihoon’s lips.

“Thank you for liking someone like me,” Woojin breathes out after kissing Jihoon. His lips are still on Jihoon’s, but not pressed, and he can feel Jihoon’s own breaths. Rapid, quick like his own. His gaze shifts to rest on Jihoon’s lips—the way they are swollen, looking like they’ve been stung by bees and Woojin feels a perverse sense of pride—that he was the one who kissed Jihoon breathless.

“Thanks for loving me too,” Jihoon replies, and he smiles—the sides of his eyes crinkles and Woojin thinks, that Jihoon is absolutely  _stunning._

 

—

 

“So, has there been any updates on Rabbit?”

It’s been awhile since Woojin worked on Rabbit, an S+ ranked ghoul that roamed the streets of Seoul. He had been busy, clearing a bunch of smaller cases as he had to bring along, and train the newer Ghoul Investigators. He did like Daehwi though—small and lithe, but burning with the same passion that he used to have. He could see parts of himself in the smaller, and younger boy—and he wished to only impart the best to Daehwi.

Rabbit had been classified as an S+ ghoul even before Woojin had become an Investigator. Rabbit was quiet, and from their studies, he only ate on the flesh of humans who had died unnaturally— _suicide victims_ down the cliffs of Seoul’s suburbans. He had been one of the ghouls who was under the radar, until another fellow ghoul—the Emperor.

Daniel-hyung had come back, grinning in pride. The Emperor had been a ranked SS ghoul, famous for his ability to foresee the future—hence, the ability to stealthily run away from the Ghoul Countermeasure Bureau. But thinking about it now, Woojin thinks that it was strange—the way the Emperor had surrendered to them, like as if beckoning them to come after him. Perhaps, there was something else that he wanted to protect, but secrets die when the ghoul dies. Perhaps, it was Rabbit—because when the Emperor died, the Rabbit had come after them—Daniel-hyung, specifically, because after having a meal at the ramen shop several corners round the bureau, he was impaled from behind.

It was quick. Daniel-hyung didn’t even have a moment to react, and perhaps—it was a form of mercy, because quick deaths are more merciful than painful, slow ones.

“No, Sir,” Daehwi supplies after giving him a salute. “Rabbit has been lying low recently. We have yet to see any movement from him.”

“I see.”

It is frustrating—the lack of updates on Rabbit, the one that he wanted to take down in order to honour Daniel-hyung’s death. If Rabbit didn’t move, then it also meant that the bureau couldn’t move. It’s like a game of prey and hunter, and Woojin wants to be the  _hunter._

“But hyung,” Daehwi speaks out after a while of tapping away at his keyboard. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, which Woojin recognises as adoration and also, curiosity. “We’ve noticed that you’ve been going home earlier. Is there  _someone?_ ”

Woojin doesn’t want to admit it. His line of work _is_ dangerous, and he doesn’t want anyone to use his affections to their advantage—he doesn’t want to see Jihoon being placed in a compromising position of any sort, especially if it’s a situation that he wielded control over. He doesn’t want to tell Daehwi, but he feels the way his face grows warmer, and the way Daehwi breaks out into a grin—and he thinks that Jihoon  _is_ a terrible influence, because he can’t quite control his emotions anymore. He admits, “Yeah. I do.”

“Oh my god, hyung,” Daehwi whispers—at least he remember to keep his volume down. “I’m  _so_ happy for you!”

It’s genuine, and Woojin can’t fight the smile off his face. He brings a hand to scratch at the back of his head, and he thinks of Jihoon’s smile  _and_ his laughter, and he thinks his cheeks are starting to hurt. “Thanks, Daehwi-ah.”

 

—

 

The thought never quite crossed Woojin’s mind, but he realises that Jihoon’s neighbourhood is strangely peaceful. There are no traces of blood, no shrill screams and Jihoon’s smiling at him while holding hands with him, and he says “It’s always safe here.”

Seoul isn’t exactly small, but neither is it too big and it’s  _exactly_ why it’s kind of sketchy that Jihoon’s neighbourhood is safe and sound. Most neighbourhoods, even the bigger ones that are filled with much hustle and bustle, have that vibe of insecurity and danger—you don’t know when a ghoul is lurking behind you, stalking you,  _waiting_ for that moment to attack and sink their teeth into you.

They are heading back after a movie date at night—Jihoon had wanted to watch the sequel to Kingsman for the longest time. Woojin was never quite the fan of watching movies, especially when he had always been busy with ghoul-hunting, but he could never say no to Jihoon. Not when he’s looking at Woojin like he’s the only who exists in his world. Jihoon had existed that he could head back home by himself, but Woojin likes to walk Jihoon home—wants to be able to spend that couple more minutes together with Jihoon, and actually continue living with the mental security that Jihoon’s home—safe and sound.

“And when  _Country Road_ came on, it was legendary!” Jihoon’s still talking about the movie. He’s animated, and his excitement still shines and Woojin thinks that he wants to spend the rest of his lifetime just listening to Jihoon talk.

“It was,” Woojin smiles softly at him, and he shifts his gaze to their interlocked hands. He never knew why people talked about hand-holding, how much they  _loved_ doing it—but Jihoon makes him understand, makes him see a whole new world that he never knew existed before. He brings Jihoon’s hand up, presses a soft kiss against his knuckles and he smiles when he sees a slight blush on Jihoon’s face.

They walk slowly, steps in sync with one another—one, two,  _one, two_. Slow walks are nice, especially when they are with the person you love and Woojin wants to spend  _all_ his time with him. By now, Woojin thinks that he starts to recognise the roads around them, recognise when he’s nearing Jihoon’s home—and it’ll be time to say goodbye.

Their footsteps come to a stop when they are in front of Jihoon’s house. They pause for a moment, hands touching and it’s like neither of them want to move—they both want to continue living in the  _now_. It’s silent, and Woojin thinks that he can only hear the sound of rustling leaves, and his own beating heart. Jihoon smiles at him—it’s gentle and filled with so much  _love_ and Woojin feels his own heart burning from the intensity.

“It was nice,” Woojin starts, eyes trained on Jihoon. He wants to see Jihoon’s  _everything_ , wants to see the way his nose scrunches up because it’s cold, wants to see the way he looks down and tries to avert his gaze when he’s shy and also the way his eyes burn with soft fire. “Let’s go on a date again soon.”

“We should,” Jihoon whispers and Woojin didn’t realise—when did Jihoon get so close to him? He’s so close, Woojin thinks that he can see his own reflection in those gorgeous eyes. He feels his eyes fluttering shut, Jihoon’s lips against his—

And then, there’s a shrill scream.

They whip their heads to the source of the sound. It’s instinctive, and Woojin curses under his breath when he doesn’t feel the security of his Quinque by his hand. When he lands his eyes on the source of the sound, he really curses his decisions. Woojin wants to let go of the weight of him as a Ghoul Investigator whenever he’s with Jihoon so he decided to leave his Quinque in his car, but when a ghoul is staring back at him—red eyes gleaming against the darkness of his pupils, he thinks that his training is  _right_ —and there never should have been any moment where his Quinque isn’t by him.

Wait— _Jihoon_. Jihoon’s still with him. Woojin feels his heart beating faster than ever, fear wrecking his very soul. If he was alone, then he would be calmly taunting the ghoul but Jihoon’s by his side, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to Jihoon. He knows that Jihoon is aware of his status as a Ghoul Investigator too—but he doesn’t want to kill, he doesn’t want Jihoon to see his  _ugly_ side.

“You smell—” the ghoul in front of them inches closer, tongue darting out to swipe his own lower lip. “—absolutely delicious.”

“Jihoon,” he says softly, in hopes that the ghoul in front of them doesn’t hear him say anything. “Go into your house.”

The ghoul chuckles, and Woojin is taken aback. It’s like the ghoul had heard what he said, and was mocking him for it. “Go back into his house? _Boy,_ have you not seen your lover boy?”

Woojin’s prompted to turn to face Jihoon and he’s stunned when he sees the same gleaming red eyes staring past him, staring at the ghoul—in anger and yet, sadness. Jihoon doesn’t shift his gaze, but Woojin knows that Jihoon’s talking to him, “I didn’t want you to find out like  _this._ ”

_It’s always the pretty ones that you don’t expect._

“J-Jihoon… You are a—“

“Yes, I am a ghoul,” Jihoon spits out. It’s bitter, as if it’s a truth that Jihoon doesn’t want to associate himself with. “I  _never_ wanted you to find out like this.”

“You can blame me, you can  _hate_ me,” Jihoon moves past Woojin’s hand that was pulling him back (to safety, to his home). “But I can’t forgive this _thing_ here. Let me kill him first, and then you can blame me.”

Woojin doesn’t know what to say. His mind is a blank—there are so many things that he wants to say but he can’t find the  _right_ words. He can’t believe that Jihoon’s a ghoul—the very  _creature_ that he hates with every fibre of his being. He feels betrayed—he can’t believe that Jihoon had kept such a secret from him for such a long time, seeing that Jihoon does  _know_ that he is a Ghoul Investigator. All this time, he has been walking on thin ice—Jihoon could have killed him any moment when his guard was let down—but he hadn’t, and Woojin’s confused.

Jihoon turns back and gives him a final look—it’s filled with sadness and pain—and Woojin is convinced that he  _never_ wanted things to turn out like this. It’s cruel, how fate is—how could the only person he had ever fallen for turn out to be ghoul?

He’s at crossroads. A part of him wants Jihoon so much—that he’s willing to do  _anything_ for him. It’s love—  _pure_ love, so why does it matter that Jihoon is a ghoul? He knows it, Woojin knows that Jihoon loves him with every fibre of his being—so it’s not like he’ll do anything to betray him, betray his heart. But there’s just something that stabs at him—how can he continue to be a Ghoul Investigator when he’s dating a ghoul? The morals that have guided him throughout his life is an anchor—an anchor that has held him down, laid down the path in front of him for  _so long_ in his life. It’s not something that he can say  _goodbye_ too, and Woojin doesn’t know what to do.

He probably looks like a gaping fish—struck with confusion, and the inability to move—but Jihoon moves faster, and he’s in front of the ghoul now. He can’t help but look at Jihoon in a different light now: the red eyes haunt his mind, and he can’t escape.

Jihoon’s glaring at the ghoul. Woojin knows that Jihoon is charming, is  _cute—_ but Woojin thinks, that Jihoon positively looks threatening. He can sense the tension in the air, the bloodthirst—and their  _kagunes_ would spring out into action any time, and he’ll just be deadweight without his Quinque.

“Don’t you know that it’s  _my_ territory?” Jihoon spits out. The ghoul snickers and Jihoon looks  _livid._ “You must be  _new_ , since you don’t know the rules.”

“And you know what I hate the most?”

“It’s people who  _break_ the rules.”

It’s fast—and Woojin thinks that if he hadn’t been trained in the art of hunting ghouls, he wouldn’t be able to see anything. There’s always a time for firsts, and Woojin thinks that this is the first time he has actually seen a ghoul fighting another ghoul—and it’s on a different scale as compared to the fights between human and ghoul that he has witnessed. It’s quick and fast, and Woojin can barely register the movement of their  _kagunes_ until they clash—and time pauses in that moment.

He doesn’t register the moment when the ghoul actually aims for him—until Jihoon’s shouting his name, and Jihoon comes in between them to defend Woojin, to protect him. “Woojin!”

Blood is wet and warm, and Woojin feels Jihoon’s weight on him. He feels the blood dripping against his shirt, and it pools—and his eyes widen when he sees the hole from where the  _kagune_ impaled Jihoon’s lower torso. Jihoon gives him a smile—it’s weak, and Woojin thinks that he means for it to be reassuring—but Woojin feels the tears well up in his eyes at Jihoon’s actions.

“Woojin,” Jihoon bites out. “I’m glad that you’re safe.”

“What are you—“ He can’t bring himself to continue his sentence. Woojin should have seen that coming. If he didn’t, he didn’t deserve the title of being an Associate Special Class—the weight of the emblem on his collar weighs heavy, like a rock.

Jihoon smiles at him, and in his moment of weakness, he still manages to press a kiss onto Woojin’s forehead. Woojin can feel the sweetness, the amount of unchanging love in it—and he thinks, he  _really_ does love Jihoon—and he doesn’t want to let him go.

Woojin is reminded of the very fact that ghouls are powerful—more powerful than humans will ever be, because Jihoon is back on his feet, and he’s glaring straight at the ghoul behind them—with a stronger ferocity and intensity now. Woojin wants to run back, wants to go back to where he parked his car to retrieve his Quinque—wants to do  _something_ so that he’s no longer deadweight, so that he can stand as equals with Park Jihoon.

“I can’t believe it,” the ghoul laughs. It sounds hysterical, and Woojin wants nothing more than to kill him. “Don’t tell me— _you_ are his lover? Were you planning to eat him after you caught his heart?”

Jihoon turns to the side, and he spits—it’s a mixture of saliva and blood. “No, you imbecile,” Jihoon sounds  _really_ angry now, and Woojin wants him—wants him to kill the ghoul that’s in front of him because Jihoon is  _better_ than that. Better than the ghoul in front of them. “He is  _my_ lover, and I don’t eat the people I love.”

It’s like a switch got activated within Jihoon because he moves faster, swifter and stronger now. Perhaps, it’s due to the adrenaline that’s coursing through his veins—but Woojin feels himself getting drunk on watching Jihoon—watching Jihoon fight, and watching Jihoon  _move_. He doesn’t know why, but the a part of his mind suddenly tells him that Jihoon is someone who he knows—someone that he  _knows_ very well.

He doesn’t know what makes him think of it, but something within him screams at him—that Park Jihoon is  _Rabbit._ Rabbit is quiet and strong—doesn’t move until the people around him have been hurt or taken away. And now that Woojin has a better grasp of how Jihoon’s  _kagune_ works, he sees the resemblance—the scales, and the way they glimmer under the moonlight; and the way Jihoon is quick and takes moments of rest because he’s panting—and Woojin matches Rabbit’s  _kagune_ to Jihoon’s. Jihoon  _is_ Rabbit.

“Goodbye fucker,” he hears Jihoon yell and it’s a painless death—because the ghoul falls limp from the multiple stab punctures from Jihoon’s _kagune_.

Silence ensues, and a part of Woojin wonders what’s going to happen next, because he doesn’t know what to do—doesn’t know what to say. It’s a dilemma between his heart and his mind—and he doesn’t want to choose. He sees the way Jihoon pants—loud breaths, and he looks at Woojin in a way that makes Woojin’s knees feel weak, and Woojin thinks that he could never bring himself to kill Jihoon,  _ever._

He hates the cruelty of the fates. His life has been wrecked with  _so much_ misery and pain—from the moment that his sister and his family was forcefully taken away from him, from the intense and brutal lessons that he had to take to become a Ghoul Investigator—and just when he thought that he could finally become a  _happy_ person—fate just had to intervene in the most cruel way ever. He wanted it so badly—wanted to have a happy ending  _with_ Jihoon.

The moral weight of a Ghoul Investigator tears him apart—and he knows that he can’t desert the bureau. There’s so much of him that’s attached to the bureau—from the very livelihood, to the hunting and to taking care of the new recruits. He thinks of Daehwi’s face. He thinks of how it will be like if he never did anything about Rabbit, even though he knows who he is—and he thinks, he’d never be able to live with the guilt.

“You’re—“ Woojin knows his voice is trembling, because he can see the way his fingers are shaking and it’s not because of the weather, not because of the cold. “—Rabbit, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Jihoon laughs bitterly, holding a hand to where the gaping wound had been. The bleeding had stopped long ago, and Woojin could see the way the RC cells are working on an overdrive—working hard to fix the broken skin, broken body. “What are you going to do to me, Woojin?”

A part of him wishes that he was blessed with some sort of otherworldly power—to tell him and guide through the decisions that he has to make—but this is life, and reality is bitter and harsh. Woojin can’t bring himself to look at Jihoon—he can’t bring himself to imagine the look that’s on Jihoon’s face. Jihoon, whose facial features contort so easily according to his emotions.

“I don’t know, Jihoon,” he breaks, and he feels his knees weaken and falls onto the ground, landing in a squatting position. “ _I don’t know_.”

“I just wanted to be  _normal,_ ” Jihoon speaks—and Woojin can feel the hurt and all the pent up pain in his voice. “I never wanted to be  _this thing_.”

“You don’t know, how it’s like to want to fit in, but you can’t… I practised so hard to force the sandwich down my throat, to pretend that  _tteokbokki_  tastes delicious when everything just tastes like soiled socks in my mouth.”

“I never asked for this in my life. I never  _wanted_ to eat humans to stay alive. I can’t even fucking  _die_ even if I wanted to.”

“I just wanted to be  _normal,_ Woojin-ah,” and Jihoon’s voice sounds closer than it was—and when Woojin looks up, he meets Jihoon’s eyes—which are watery, and he sees the red rims. Woojin thinks a part of his heart is breaking—he doesn’t want to see Jihoon cry but he can’t muster up the courage, the strength to bring his fingers up to wipe the tears away.

“I just wanted to love you like a normal  _human being,_ ” Jihoon’s voice breaks.

It’s almost ironic—how the ghoul wants to be  _normal_ , a human being—even though he can’t. Woojin would be lying if he said that he knew what Jihoon was feeling, but he can’t brush it away. He can’t treat Jihoon just like those other ghouls—not like that other ghoul that was lying several metres away from them—because it’s Jihoon.

It’s Jihoon and Woojin thinks, he can’t live if Jihoon is gone.

“I don’t know what to do, Jihoonie,” Woojin swallows the lump in his throat. It’s painful, but he has to do it. He has to do it before he hurts Jihoon—and Woojin doesn’t want to hurt him. “I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, but I can’t do this—I can’t juggle this. I can’t juggle the fact that I’m a Ghoul Investigator, and you’re the very being that I’m trained to hate—trained to  _kill_.”

Jihoon laughs. It’s forced and bitter, and it sounds almost cynical. Perhaps, Jihoon had been expecting a reaction like that. They can’t deny the love that they share between the two of them, but the moral weight of  _who_ they are weigh too heavily.

“I love you so much too,” Jihoon whispers. “But I know—I know that it was never meant to work out.”

He feels the tears well up in his eyes, and he wishes that all that training had prepared him for this—prepared him for the moment where his heart would be ripped apart from the rest of his body, from the veins that secure them down. Romance is painful.

“I’m sorry,” Woojin sobs. “I’m sorry that I’m a Ghoul Investigator. It’s because of me, because of my values—that we can’t be together.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jihoon’s the one to take the first step. He has always been one step ahead from Woojin, and Woojin’s the one who had always been chasing after him. He reaches out to cup Woojin’s cheeks in his hands. “I’m a ghoul—and that’s something that we can’t do anything about.”

Jihoon forces Woojin to look at him—meet his eyes, and Woojin thinks that his eyes are  _still_ as pretty as they were. He feels that he’s always getting lost in them, and Jihoon’s the deepest abyss that he would fall into.

“I’m leaving, Woojin,” Jihoon says. This time, Jihoon’s the one looking away—like he’s afraid to see Woojin’s reaction. “I’m leaving Seoul.”

“Forget about me. Move on. Pretend that  _we_ never happened.”

“When you wake up tomorrow morning, think of  _everything_ as a dream—that it never happened in reality.”

“How can I do that—” Woojin can’t stop the tears from falling anymore. It’s raw, and Jihoon’s the only person that Woojin would ever dare to show his most inner feelings. “—when you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me?”

Jihoon laughs at Woojin, and it’s gentle—and it reminds Woojin of the first time he made Jihoon laugh (and he swore, that he would always do anything to continue to make Jihoon smile). “You’re stupid. You’re also the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“But you know it—we can’t happen anymore,” Jihoon presses a single kiss to his forehead. It lingers, and Woojin thinks that it’s absolutely painful. “I will always  _love_ you, but we can’t happen.”

He doesn’t want this—he doesn’t want to continue living in a world without Jihoon. But painful decisions have to be made, because life is about suffering. It isn’t life, if you don’t feel the hurt course through your veins.

“I love you  _so much_ ,” Woojin whispers, and this time—he’s the one to press his lips against Jihoon’s. He knows that it will be the last time he ever gets to do this, and he tastes the saltiness of Jihoon’s tears. It tastes like pain and love, and Woojin wants to stay in this moment forever.

When they pull back, Jihoon gives him a final smile and reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Goodbye, my love, Park Woojin.”

He fades into the darkness, together with the dead body—like he never was here, like he was a mere breeze in Woojin’s life.

 

—

 

“I can’t believe that you were really promoted to Special Class,” Daehwi beams as he refills more beer into Woojin’s glass.

Woojin shrugs, “It’s all in a day’s work.”

It’s an honour to be promoted to become a Special Class Investigator—for it was a position that was reserved for a select few, the most elite of the Ghoul Countermeasure Bureau, Seoul Division. Woojin never quite cared about the ranks. What matters the most is that, at the end of the day, the Ghoul Investigators were doing their job and the safety of the people was ensured.

“So modest,” Daehwi laughs. “Well, congratulations though!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Woojin replies, clinking his own glass of beer together with Daehwi’s.

There’s a flash of neon yellow that Woojin recognises from his side, and he whips his head back—only to see nothing. Something tells him that he should have turned earlier—that slight millisecond earlier—but time has passed, and Woojin feels a part of his heart ache.

They say, time heals—but Woojin thinks that it’s a lie. Time passes, and you paste a band aid over the open wounds and you hope that the wound heals, even without giving it the remedy that it deserves. Memories of loving kisses, adoring gazes, and ultimate love and protection flood back into his head, and his heart starts to ache even more.

Woojin waves a waiter over, asking for another glass of beer. He can’t get over, he can’t move on—and drinking is the only temporary remedy that he can find.

He misses Park Jihoon so fucking much.

_Where are you, Park Jihoon?_

**Author's Note:**

> ... Please hang on for 2 more days before you kill me.
> 
> Hit me up on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/99izm) if you'd want to kill me over this, or please also feel free to leave any thoughts that you have on my [CC](https://curiouscat.me/chamwink).
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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